Unfair Advantage
by OrangeShipper
Summary: One evening at Downton, Matthew's waiting for the rain to stop and amuses himself. Not at all serious ficlet prompt response written a while ago. Mid s2, no real spoilers.


A/N: _I wrote this a long time ago for the mmmondaymadness Livejournal community, and on a random whim have decided to post it here!_

_Speaking of 'random', this fic IS THAT. :P I cannot remember the precise circumstances, but Silvestria gave me a ficlet prompt for M/M playing table-tennis... And this happened._

_It's set mid s2 at some point, and... Well, I really didn't think that much about the context!  
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_It's not very 'deep', it's very silly, but I hope you enjoy it! :D_

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><p><em><em>**Unfair Advantage**

_Thwock! Rattle… Tap. _

_Silence._

_Thwock! Rattle… Tap._

_Silence._

_Thwock! Rattle…_

As Mary crossed the hallway from the dining room, where she'd left her book earlier, she stopped at the strange noise echoing from the library. It was a faintly familiar sound, though there was something not quite right about it, and at this time of the evening… Everyone had retired to bed, the soldiers certainly had been well tucked in by now, so…

Tentatively, she went into the library and peered around the screen that separated the smaller end reserved for her father from the new 'recreation' room. And laughed aloud at the sight she saw there.

"What _are_ you doing?"

Matthew straightened suddenly and whipped round, his lips parted and eyes wide in shock at being caught. It took him only a moment to recover, and he swallowed before smiling with a slight shrug.

"What does it look like?"

"But _why_?" she chuckled.

"I thought I'd wait for the rain to pass," Matthew said quietly as he turned to the black window, against which heavy rain had been pounding all evening. "Wouldn't want to spoil the uniform," he smiled, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Naturally!" Mary could not disagree with him there.

"Besides, I enjoy it," he muttered as he walked back to the edge of the table, gently throwing and catching the ball. "There's a table at the village we generally rest at in France, but its condition leaves a lot to be desired…"

Even before he'd finished speaking, he threw the ball up lightly and hit it across the table, watching with some resignation as it bounced along the other side before dropping off and landing on the wooden floor with a soft tap.

He made to move around the table to pick it up again, but Mary stooped and retrieved it before he had a chance.

"I see… Well, you can't possibly manage alone, Matthew!"

He shrugged and looked pointedly around. "Give me another option!"

"I imagine you'd hardly dare take me on?" Mary raised an eyebrow, holding the ball up challengingly between slender, dainty fingers.

Matthew swayed back a little in surprise, looking ever so slightly impressed, when a wicked twinkle lit his eye.

"That depends on whether or not you'd make me a worthy partner…"

"You'll just have to put me to the test!"

Before Matthew could make any response, Mary leaned to the side, swiped a bat from an adjacent table and sent the ball spinning across to bounce neatly off the opposite corner with perfect precision.

His eyes widened, mouth open in impressed amazement. Mary grinned, rocking lightly on her heels in amusement, eyeing him with a taunting stare. "Care to withdraw, Matthew?"

"On the contrary!" he exclaimed as he went to retrieve the ball. He approached again, the corners of his lips just twitching into a mischievous smile. "The greater the challenge, the greater the satisfaction."

"Good," Mary murmured as she leaned forwards in anticipation.

They began their game with a vengeance. Each was quietly impressed by the other's ability.

The ball flew back and forth across the table. Mary focussed intently on the ball, or appeared to, when she was not meeting Matthew's eyes in wordless battle over the small court. His own eyes glittered, sparkling with enthusiasm and energy. Mary loved the thrill of it; energetic, but not wholly inelegant due to the small playing surface. Energetic enough, if one played with the right amount of vigour, to cause the faintest sheen of sweat on Matthew's brow, to cause him to remove his jacket and roll up the sleeves of his khaki shirt before wiping his arm across his forehead, chest rising and falling gently with slight exertion.

It was terrible of her, she imagined, but really couldn't much care, as every so often she would send the ball deliberately far, sailing past Matthew's reach. An indulgent, secret smile graced her lips as she watched his back, the way his clothes stretched tautly over his body as he bent to reach it, the way he straightened again. Oh, she knew perfectly well he was not hers to enjoy, but… well, someone had to retrieve the ball to play, and she certainly wouldn't stoop to it! Why not enjoy it at the same time?

_Thwock! Tap. _

_Thwock! Tap._

After the ball had whizzed past him again, just catching the edge of the table and so remaining in play, Matthew leaned on the corner and rested his hand on his hip, panting slightly. Mary appeared entirely unaffected, betrayed only by the odd strand of hair that clung to her neck, the delicate flush of her cheeks and the way her chest rose and fell just a little more rapidly than usual.

"Well, Matthew?" Her voice was high and breathless. "Have I your surrender?"

He raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"I fear it inevitable, Mary... Somehow, you always seem to have the upper hand."

**Fin**

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><p>AN: _Um, yes. There we go! :) Thank you for reading! As ever, feedback is always lovely and very much appreciated! _


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